


Can't Look Away

by mostly_stardust



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Magnus Archives Fusion, Archivist!Keith, Assistant!Lance, Episode Rewrite: MAG 160 The Eye Opens, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Whump, yeah definitely just shamelessly rewrote all the sad parts of this ep with Klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostly_stardust/pseuds/mostly_stardust
Summary: All the lights had gone out, and the thin light that filtered in through the curtains on the window was wrong somehow, tinged in a pale sickly green. Everything that happened with the statement, what he did, all came rushing back. Keith weakly latched on to the sleeve of Lance’s oversized green jacket, he was a rowboat in a storm. “Oh god. What-” He met Lance’s wide eyes, realization dawning. “What happened?”
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 14





	Can't Look Away

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for MAG160.

“Come on, wake up, wake up, wake up,” Lance muttered frantically, crouched over Keith’s body, lying prone on the floor. His hands shook as he smoothed the other man’s hair, clutched his shirt, pressed a cold hand to an even colder cheek. 

After recovering from the battering he’d taken during the horrific transformation of the world outside, it had taken Lance much longer than he would’ve liked to find his way back to the cabin. The short distance had become a living nightmare, the new world so drastically changed that he’d almost lost his way. When he’d finally made it to the door, he’d wrenched it open only to find Keith collapsed on the kitchen floor, out cold.

He raised his voice, panic rising “Keith? Keith! Keith, WAKE UP!” As a last-ditch effort, Lance reluctantly raised his hand and swatted the archivist’s face.

“Agh!” Keith’s eyes snapped open, violet irises unfocused and distant. He heaved in a breath, gasping as he focused to make out the details of the face before him in the dark room. “Wha-?  _ Lance ? _ ”

“Keith!” Lance cried, breathing heavily around the fear that pressed down on him from all sides. His hands shook as he brushed the other man’s long hair out of his eyes, relieved.

“Wh- Wha-” Keith sat up quickly, taking in the scene in the cabin around him. There was broken glass in the corner from where the big mirror had fallen off the wall and shattered onto the faded wooden floor. All the lights had gone out, and the thin light that filtered in through the curtains on the window was  _ wrong _ somehow, tinged in a pale sickly green. Everything that happened with the statement,  _ what he did _ , all came rushing back. Keith weakly latched on to the sleeve of Lance’s oversized green jacket, he was a rowboat in a storm. “Oh god. What-” He met Lance’s wide eyes, realization dawning. “What happened?”

Lance gripped Keith’s arm, choking out a response “I-I don’t, I don’t know. Everything-” He tried, and failed to catch his breath. “It’s all gone wrong.”

“Help me up!” Keith demanded frantically. Lance rose and hauled him up, bracing him with a hand on his elbow as the shorter man scrambled to get his feet beneath him. “Agh!” Keith grunted, leaning heavily against the table as the room pitched around him. His head pounded, a thousand sensations fighting to overtake him. He groaned and shrugged off Lance’s concerned hands, stumbling toward the window.

“No, no, no don’t!” Lance protested. He reached out to stop Keith, to protect him from what was beyond the walls of the cabin, but he couldn’t bring himself to come any closer to the outside. He remained firmly planted, pleading desperately “Don’t go outside. It’s-” his voice broke, “It’s  _ real _ bad.”

Heedless, Keith yanked back the curtain. All his breath left him at once as he was instantly struck with a deep sense of fear from the world outside. The landscape was blackened and barren. Where there used to be rolling fields was now nothing but an empty wasteland with the occasional bare, twisted tree that reached toward the sky like fingers clawing from the cracked and broken earth. And the sky. It was completely black, void of the sun, stars, and moon. But it was not empty. Scattered about in uneven waves like some otherworldly stratus clouds were massive black eyes with growing green irises, their whites as dark as the slit-like pupils in their centers. They blinked slowly, staring blankly at the sick planet below. In the middle of it all, seeming impossibly huge, was one giant eye, gazing down over an unimaginably tall structure in the far-off distance. “ _ Oh god _ ,” Keith whispered, everything washing over him in dark waves as he clutched at the window sill.

Lance had flinched at the sudden wrenching open of the curtains, the horrors of the world beyond lay raw, like a fresh wound before them. He kept his eyes down, half-turned away, as he spoke, his voice shaking, “I-I don’t know if it’s just here or if it-”

“ _ No _ ,” Keith cut him off, speaking softly. “No, it’s everywhere.” His voice began to shake as the fears of millions of people coursed through him and around him, rising up and into those dark eyes like steam from the earth. “They’re all here now,” he said with certainty. “I can feel  _ all _ of it.”

Lance glanced up and watched with growing terror as Keith gazed in awe out the window. “Kei-” when the other man didn’t stir Lance felt his voice die abruptly in his throat. He sucked in half a breath, then tried again. “Keith, I’m scared,” he admitted, voice shaking.

Keith didn’t move, didn’t turn away from the window, didn’t go to comfort Lance. He stayed where he was, his posture rigid, face upturned toward the sea of eyes. “The whole world is afraid, Lance. Because of me,” Keith said quietly, his words drawn slowly out of him, almost without his notice. He felt that dreamlike feeling come over him, like he was giving a statement. But there was nothing to read, nothing but those dark streams of fear snaking toward the horrible sky. “And The Watcher… drinks it all in,” he grinned, the expression tight and unnatural on his face.

Lance clutched at his jacket, twisting his hands into the fabric until it wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to run to him, to yank Keith away from the window and thrust back the curtains, to hide them both from the world, to protect them from The Watcher’s gaze as well as he was able. But he couldn’t move. The Watcher held him frozen as it drank deeply from his fear. He watched on in horror as Keith smiled up at the sky, blissful. “Keith?” Lance whispered, terrified of everything he saw before him.

Keith didn’t turn away. He just smiled back at The Watcher, a mere pawn that had succeeded in winning the game for his master. “Look at the sky, Lance,” his voice was thin and unnaturally serene. “Look at the sky! It’s looking back!” A gasping laugh ripped out of him. It rose uncontrollably, and Keith remained standing at the window, shaking with laughter as he gazed out at the terrible new world he had created.

It was a long moment before Lance was able to break The Watcher’s hold on him. He shuffled one foot forward, then the other. He stumbled, falling hard into the wall beside Keith. The archivist hadn’t stopped laughing, but the maniacal sound now bubbled out of him accompanied by gasping sobs and a stream of tears from his wide, unblinking eyes that were locked skyward.

Lance turned his back purposefully away from the window, putting as much of himself between Keith and The Watcher’s gaze as possible. “Keith?” he ventured. When the other man didn’t react, Lance inched further between Keith and the window, trying to catch his gaze. “Keith can you hear me?” 

He got only hoarse and broken laughter in response. Lance slowly reached up to lightly brush a tear from Keith’s cheek, then gently took his face into his hands. “Keith buddy, look at me,” he said sadly, brushing his thumbs lightly over sharp, pale cheekbones. “Keith,  _ please _ .”

Finally,  _ finally _ , Keith’s eyes wrenched away from the sky to stare unblinkingly back at Lance. “Come back to me,” Lance whispered, searching Keith’s face for signs of recognition.

All at once Keith’s face crumpled as the laughter died suddenly, replaced with heaving, full-body, screaming sobs. He collapsed fully into Lance, and Lance threw his arms around the shorter man, pulling his face tight against his chest and away from the view of outside. He wrapped Keith up, hugging him fully against him and tucking the raven head under his chin. Lance sucked in a breath, letting it out shakily as tears sprung to his own eyes and tumbled onto Keith’s dark hair. Sinking slowly to the floor, Lance pulled Keith into his lap, their legs intertwining crookedly, his back pressed hard against the wall.

Keith’s hoarse cries wracked his whole body and soaked Lance’s shirt within moments, but the darker-skinned man clutched him tightly and did not let go. He pressed a soft kiss into the top of Keith’s head, shushing him quietly. Keith pressed himself harder into Lance’s chest, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt and holding on like a drowning man. He mumbled out a stream of nonsense, pausing only to gasp out the occasional sob.

Lance threaded his fingers through Keith’s dark hair, his tears falling silently. Slowly, Keith’s cries formed into tearful words. “It was me. It was always me. It was me,” he breathed into Lance, shuddering and shrinking away from the words.

Lance stifled a sob, squeezing his eyes shut against the sorrow that welled up inside him. He hadn’t allowed himself to feel hopeless, not when he had watched the world end, and not when he had found Keith so still inside the cabin. But now the hopelessness of their situation weighed heavily on him. The sheer scope of what had happened threatened to crush him where he sat, holding a broken man in a lonely house in a broken world. 

He reached up with shaking fingers and bitterly drew the curtains closed behind them, sealing them inside the sanctuary of the cabin. His heart was breaking. His heart was breaking for the world. His heart was breaking for the archivist.

Lance held Keith tightly, and they cried together through the night. Neither of them slept.

* * *

Keith clutched his cold cup of tea, staring blankly at the scratched wooden tabletop. He flinched when he heard the door to the other room quietly click open, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up, to face what he knew was coming.

Lance watched Keith from the doorway, trying to find the right words to say. He should have waited a moment, taken time to catch his breath. But no, the recording of Keith ending the world had  _ hurt _ to hear. It hurt him to learn how badly the other man had been twisted and betrayed. It wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t stand it. 

After a long moment, Lance padded quietly across the room. He bent down, wrapping his arms around Keith’s chest from behind and resting his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder. Keith kept his eyes downcast, but did bring a hand up to intertwine lightly with Lance’s fingers. He knew better than to hope. He sucked in a long, shaky breath. “You listened to it,” Keith all but whispered, his voice long-gone. 

It wasn’t a question, but Lance answered anyway. “Yes,” he breathed.

Keith went on unsteadily. “So you know about everything that hap-” He paused, taking a breath before continuing, “Everything that I did.”

“I know about everything they made you do.”

Keith sighed heavily, frustrated. “This isn’t about the statement, Lance.” He stood, pulling away from Lance’s embrace to stalk angrily across the room. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it roughly out of his eyes. “Everything I did as the archivist, every encounter I had, everyone I sought out, was all leading up to this. Everything I ever did was turning me into this- this monster!”

Lance watched Keith’s back sadly as he retreated, distancing himself from Lance’s consolation. “No,” he said, a quiet denial.

Keith's head snapped up, and he spun to face Lance. “No?” he repeated, his eyes flashing. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Lance tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “That wasn’t you,” he said, gentle but firm.

Keith let out another short, angry sigh. “How was that not me?” he asked incredulously, his hoarse voice pitching up slightly. He stared Lance down. “I made all of those decisions. I could’ve stopped looking for avatars and searching out the truth at any time, but I chose to keep going. No one was making me do anything. I did this to myself.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know,” Lance’s voice broke. If he had any tears left, he’d be crying again. It was so unfair. Keith didn’t deserve this. This wasn’t a burden that anyone should have to bear. 

“That doesn’t matter!” Keith insisted, his breath heaving. Hot words spilled out of him, all his pent up frustration finding an outlet in the only place possible. “It was still me. I did it Lance. I ended the entire. fucking. world! Nothing you can say will change that so just- just stop! Stop looking at me like I’m some goddamn injured animal and just get the fuck over it. It’s over! There’s nothing left! I destroyed everything! Now stop. trying. to fix me!”

Lance flinched at his harsh words, turning away from Keith’s wrath. The archivist had never spoken to him like that. He hardly ever got angry at all, and before only the bad guys had managed to get him riled up. Lance hated being on the receiving end. He swiped the back of his hand across his hot, dry eyelids, feeling helpless. There was a long, charged pause. “I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, sniffling.

Keith's rage melted instantly. “No, no, no, no, Lance-” He closed the space between them, gently spinning Lance so he could peer into his eyes. The deep hurt he saw there cut through the chaos around them, bringing a sharp clarity that made Keith gravely regret his words. “I should be the one apologizing, for this and everything else,” he went on, maintaining earnest eye contact with the taller man. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He clutched Lance’s hands, “You’re all I have left.”

“I understand,” Lance gave a small, sad smile. “But it’s not that. I’m just-” He squeezed Keith’s hands, breath hitching in his chest somewhere around his heart. “I’m just sorry it had to be you.”

Keith’s eyes widened, a pang of remorse rattling his own chest. He felt a great loss at everything they could’ve had, at the normal, happy life that they’d missed out on. “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m sorry too.” He paused for a minute, looking fondly up into Lance’s face, so raw and trusting, all of his feelings always out in the open. “I think we could have had it good.”

Lance smiled again, in spite of himself. He brought one of Keith’s hands to his lips and gently brushed a kiss against his knuckles. “Maybe we can still have something?” he said quietly. “After all, we still have this,” he glanced around the cabin pointedly, their small haven in this new, ruined world. 

“Yes,” Keith conceded. “I suppose we do.”

Lance grinned, pulling the archivist into a loose hug, more gentle than the hard, grounding ones from before. Keith sunk gratefully into the embrace, relieved to still have something to hold on to.

There was still a lot to figure out, but for now at least he had this. And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely self-indulgent, just wanted to explore some off-camera TMA stuff with these boys. And I like making myself sad? I guess? Might do more, who knows.


End file.
